Tending Wounds
by Rhea Carmen
Summary: Of emotional and physical hurt that Bruce had mended for his teammates, or, 5 times Bruce takes care of his teammates, and one time they take care of Bruce.


**Tending Wounds**

Rating: K+ (I don't think there were any graphic details, but tell me if it's nor appropriate.)

Disclaimer: Not mine, every character belong to Marvel.

Warning: don't trust the medical stuffs in here, I'm not sure those were the right things to do when someone is injured!

this work is beta-ed by alylynn122 (on ao3). Comments and constructive critics are highly appreciated! Thank you!

* * *

1\. Natasha

She woke up with a quiet yelp, sweating profusely through her white t-shirt. She looked across the room warily, eyeing the dark corner as if something would pop out and attacked her. She sighed, calming her frayed nerves, then walked to the adjoining bathroom and washed her face.

She pondered on her bad dream for a minute, the bad memories of the Red Room were twisted into a much darker fantasy. She looked at her haggard expression on the mirror and then hardened her face to the natural, stoic countenance of Black Widow. She closed the door of the bathroom, staring at the bed for a second before she decided to go out and make something for herself, she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

"JARVIS, lights dimmed, please," Natasha's soft voice was clearly heard in the empty communal kitchen. JARVIS silently followed the order as the AI brought the light on, dimmed as the assassin instructed.

She put the kettle on, opting to relax with a warm tea before trying to go back to bed. As she waited, she leaned her back on the counter, focusing her eyes on the clock that said 2:24 a.m. on the wall. She watched as the clock's dots blinked away, clearing her head from the murky thoughts.

The sharp whistle of the kettle brought her back to reality. She turned off the stove and carefully poured the hot water into the mug,

"Hey," the sudden voice in the room surprised her and she spilled the hot water on her hand. Muttering a soft Russian curse under her breath, the kettle was taken away from her as another hand held her scalded hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," Natasha looked up to see the tousled gray hair and the apologetic face of one Dr. Banner.

"I didn't notice you were there," Natasha simply said, watching as her hand was stretched onto running cold water. Bruce's grip on her hand was steady and firm, Natasha mused over how many times the good doctor had done this before.

"Yeah, sorry, I was sleeping on the couch when I heard the kettle," Bruce shot her a small smile, "Is it painful?" he asked, worries etched on his tired face.

"Not really," Natasha replied, she noticed that the burn was small and the cold water really helped ease the pain. "It's no big deal, Doctor," she smirked.

Bruce hummed, ignoring her playful tone at the word 'doctor' and just breathed out "Good then."

They spent another five minutes on the sink before Bruce turned the water off. He dried her hand gently, a touch she had expected from the doctor, yet she still smiled despite herself. "Hang on," Bruce let her hand go and took the first aid kit from the cupboard, searching for the antibiotic cream and applied it on her hand as gently as a mother would handle her newborn. The sharp sting that she felt didn't faze her and she opted to look at the serious face of the doctor.

"You sure you're not an MD?" her tone was soft, underlying with a hint of mirth.

"Nah, it took far too long to be an MD, legally," he returned with the same mirth, still focused on bandaging the small wound with tender care.

"You got skill in bandaging," Natasha looked at her hand, "better than some of the SHIELD nurses, anyway," she smiled, "thank you."

"You're welcome. Besides, it was my fault that you got scalded," Bruce smiled. "Shall I make another tea for you?" he asked, even though he already turned on the stove as it heated the slightly lukewarm water.

"Thank you," she replied, thanking for the comfort the doctor had subtly slipped in his action. He didn't ask about her wariness or her lack of focus that had made the man able to slip in unnoticed. But judging from his face, she knew that he knew it was because of the same reason he slept in the sofa outside his own bed.

"No problem," Bruce gave her a sincere smile, and they spent the ungodly hour in comfortable silence.

* * *

2\. Thor

"Friend Bruce, it seems I might have injured myself," Thor bellowed as the rest of the team boarded the quinjet. Hulk wasn't needed at this particular battle, so Bruce monitored the fight from the jet. He quickly patched Thor's bleeding bicep nicely, noting the discomfort on the demigod's face.

"That thing was hella strong. And sharp," Clint chided, dejectedly holding his own bleeding hand, although not as bad as Thor's.

"He must be using some kind of strengthened iron because he damaged my baby," Tony's faceplate was lifted as he studied the various scratch around his metal. "Damn," he murmured as he looked over the worn out suit.

"Quit whining you guys," Natasha yelled from the cockpit. She was relatively unharmed and handled the quinjet as it took off. "We're taking off."

"You know you were lucky, Tony. You managed to tackle him, but you should at least have told us before you dived into the villain," Steve retorted back from his seat beside Natasha, unhappy with Tony's recklessness.

"Come on Cap, time was of the essence," Tony smirked as his suit dismantled itself from the engineer. Clint laughed a bit hysterically while Steve and Natasha rolled their eyes.

Ignoring their banter, Bruce asked the Asgardian, "Does it hurt much?" Bruce asked as he touched the wound. The demigod replied with a grunt. "Maybe it nicked something," Bruce mused, still pressing the wound with a clean cloth. The blood still ran, albeit not as much as before.

"Is the wound grave?" Thor asked after a moment, his voice wasn't strained as much as before. He trusted the green warrior to take care of his wound since he found out his touch was much kinder than SHIELD's doctors. "Will it not be better after a moment?"

"I guess it will heal pretty fast," Bruce cleaned the wound carefully, "If it begins to hurt again, tell me, okay?" Bruce said a little worried, bandaging it neatly.

"At ease, Friend Bruce, it is only a mere scratch now," Thor rumbled, true to his word, the thunder god didn't appear as distressed as he first appeared. "I thank you greatly for mending the battle wound," he flashed his wide grin.

"I'm glad to hear that, Thor," Bruce smiled kindly. "Hopefully it will be gone is no time. I'm gonna look at the others, 'kay?" Bruce lightly tapped Thor's other bicep, and left Thor's side when the demigod nodded. "That looked pretty nasty, Clint," Bruce went to Clint who ignored his wound, saying that "it's no biggie".

Thor laughed at the archer's antics and felt grateful for having a wonderful member that cared for the team's well being.

* * *

3\. Steve

Bruce was about to retire to his room after being awake for twenty-eight hours in the lab with Tony when he heard the small whimpers. He stopped in his tracks, peering into the dark communal room when he heard hitched breaths.

"Hello?" Bruce asked, unable to see the figure on the sofa, "JARVIS, lights please,"

"Yes, sir," JARVIS replied firmly as the lights turned on.

"Bruce…?" Steve croaked, his back hunched as he turned his face to look at the sleep deprived scientist.

"Steve? Are you okay?" Bruce quickly strode to the Captain as he looked at the ghastly expression on him, trying carefully to take a breath.

"I-I think..." his answer was cut short as the sharp intake of air hurt his chest. Bruce remembered Steve's old medical file about his asthma.

"Isn't your asthma supposed to be gone?" Bruce inquired as he soothingly rubbed the captain's back. "Panic attack, I guess?" Bruce mumbled when the older man wheezed. "Steve, look at me," Bruce grabbed the blonde's head, locking his eyes on the hazy ones, "follow my breathing, okay, Steve? In and out," Bruce said in a soft voice as if trying to talk to a child, then gave an example of breathing as he took a deep breath and let it out. Steve closed his eyes as he followed the doctor's breathing, a tad shorter, but he let out a shaky breath. "Good, good. It's okay, Steve, just keep breathing, in and out," Bruce encouraged Steve and began to inhale and exhale again. His warm hands stayed on Steve's left cheek and right shoulder as he repeated the breathing pattern patiently, waiting until Steve was able to breathe easily again.

"Okay?" he asked as he took note of the super-soldier's conditions.

"Yeah, thank you, Bruce," Steve showed him a tired smile which was responded to with another smile.

"Want me to take you to your room?" He asked quietly, Steve shook his head. "Okay then, I'm going bac—" Bruce was about to stand up when Steve held his hand, an alarmed expression crossing his face when he realized he had held down the good doctor. He let go of his hand quickly.

"Sorry," he said hurriedly. Bruce was stunned, but he could understand the captain's actions. In front of him was not _the_ Captain America, the iconic hero who needed to act tough, but rather the scrawny kid who needed reassurances and comfort from another human being. Bruce then smiled at the man,

"All right, let's just stay here, 'kay?" Bruce sat beside the captain, enveloped together with a single blanket as both of them snuggled against each other. Steve wanted to reject the doctor's offer, but instead he simply mumbled a soft "thank you" and sighed a breath of relief. He then encircled his hand around the scientist's shoulder and held him close. Bruce felt a little awkward, but he was willing to set aside his trouble to take care Steve's own.

The light was off and the warmth was comforting and they soon slept peacefully, laying their bodies across the sofa as Steve held Bruce close, and Bruce patted the soldier's back reassuringly.

The next morning, they woke up to Clint and Natasha's giggles and Tony's sneers at the cozy position.

* * *

4\. Tony

Natasha was teaching some basic martial arts in the gym when Tony screamed. Bruce, who was seated on the mat a few feet away quickly looked at them who had just been having a sparring match. Tony was on the floor, cradling his hand while Natasha looked at Tony exasperatedly.

"Goddammit! Tasha! Can't you do it more gently?!" Tony scowled, "Ouch! Ouch! Dammit, it hurts! Bruce!" Tony cursed under his breath. Bruce quickly stopped his yoga and went to Tony's side, inspecting the damage.

"Quit complaining, you were the one who slipped from the mat," Natasha scoffed, "it's not broken, you know,"

"When did you become the doctor?! Ouch!" Tony whined when Bruce held the shoulder.

"She's right, it's not broken, Tony," Bruce looked carefully at the shoulder while Natasha was giving Tony a smug smile, "It's dislocated, we need to reset it quickly before it swells,"

"Wait, what? Now?" Tony looked incredulously at Bruce, "Seriously?"

"Better now than later, whiner," Natasha smirked, "I'll help you, doc," She sat down, holding Tony firmly in his place.

"It might hurt for a while, but once it pops into place, you'll feel better," Bruce softly said as he put his hand in the right places before pulling it.

"Wai-wait-wait! On three, okay, Bruce? On three," Tony scrunched his eyes, ignoring the not-so-subtle snickers from Natasha. But she kept her grip firm around Tony.

"Okay, one… two," Bruce pulled the hand quickly and swiftly in one smooth movement before he reached three. The 'pop' sound was muffled by Tony's yelp.

"Bruce! You traitor! How could you?!" Tony grumbled as he cradled his hand which wasn't hurting as much as before. Natasha just huffed out before she left.

"I'm going first," she was already inside the elevator and pulled upstairs when Bruce pulled out a long towel from a drawer.

"It worked, right?" Bruce smiled, putting the towel around Tony's arm and shoulder carefully and gently, making no jostling movements, as he turned makeshift the towel into a sling. "Better?" he asked when the sling fit perfectly.

Tony huffed, "Yeah, well, you're still the gentlest and most cunning doctor I've ever met," there was no heat behind Tony's words. "Thanks, Bruce," he looked up to meet the scientist's eyes.

A smirk was on Bruce's face, "you're welcome. Come on, let's get you upstairs to ice that shoulder," Bruce said as he helped the engineer to stand on his feet.

"You know, you're like our in-house doctor, huh? A concierge doctor, heh," Tony grinned at his own comment as they got inside the elevator. JARVIS automatically pulled the two men to Tony's penthouse.

"You've been watching that Hampton's doctor show, huh?" Bruce replied, remembering the first season they had watched a couple months ago. "Are you the German billionaire, then?" he said as he righted his position to eye the starting-to-swell shoulder.

"Fictional or not, I'm always the billionaire, baby," Tony snickered with a sleazy tone as he wiggled his eyebrows at Bruce. "Anyway, you're creative enough like that doctor," he pointed the makeshift sling towel.

Bruce laughed a little, "That is simple and predictable, Tony, unlike that doctor's idea of creative,"

"Well, you're my own—the Avengers own—creative doctor, and it's fine as it is," Tony said softly, head resting against the cold wall behind him. Bruce simply absorbed the sentiment behind Tony's words. "But seriously, thank you,"

"You're welcome, Tony," Bruce answered quietly. "I'm glad I could help all of you," he smiled when the engineer looked at him. If his presence here pleased Tony and he could help them doing something else besides Hulking-out, then Bruce was happy enough.

"Nice to have you on our team, doc," Tony said when the door opened.

* * *

5\. Clint

It was almost four in the morning when Clint had come home after a thirty-four-hour arduous solo mission. He was really tired, sore, and some of his wounds hadn't closed yet, but his nerves were pretty high-strung. He was exhausted, yet sleep eluded him.

He stopped on his way to rummage for food from the kitchen, "Oh, hey, Doc, didn't know you were still up," Clint greeted Bruce who was sitting on the counter, eyes closed, as he felt the warm mug on his hand. Bruce's eyes blinked open and he smiled when he saw the archer across the room. Bruce hummed his reply when he took a careful look at Clint's body and his smile faltered.

"What happened?" Bruce put his mug on the counter, he waited for the agent to drink his water.

"The usual; solo mission, no backup, the long hour." Clint shrugged and stopped halfway when his muscles protested, "You're bound to make mistakes after the first twenty hours."

"Must be tough," Bruce said sympathetically, "Why don't you take a warm bath, then after that I'll look at those injuries?" Bruce motioned the archer to his own room. "It'll soothe your muscles before you sleep,"

Clint imagined his body soaking in the warm water and he hastily made his way into his room, he yelled "Deal!" and soon was gone behind the door. Bruce took another sip of his warm tea and enjoyed the relaxing aroma while he waited for the assassin.

After half an hour had passed, Bruce went to Clint's room, knocking on the door quietly, "Clint? You ready?"

"Yeah, Doc, come on in," at the reply, Bruce opened the door and went inside the well-lit room. Clint was sitting on his bed, wearing sweatpants with his purple t-shirt set aside on the bed. Bruce quickly studied the body for more injuries now that there was no obstruction.

"What did you do? Your body is colorful," Bruce raised an eyebrow while opening the first aid kit he brought from the kitchen. "You should be more careful,"

"Well, I perch on high places, Bruce. When I fall, it's not going to be pretty." Clint winced when the antiseptic touch his open wounds, "I'm not saying I fell, but, you know…" Clint continued.

"Even if you have perfect balance, you still need to be careful," Bruce cautiously cleaned the other wounds, then sutured and bandaged them. He spread antibiotic cream widely around the wounds and a soothing cream abundantly around the bruises. Bruce's hands were warm against his skin and it lulled Clint into a comfortable state.

"Okay, doctor," Clint replied mockingly and lazily. He could barely keep his eyes open now.

"All right, it's done. But you need to reapply those creams when you wake up," Bruce instructed automatically, like a real medical doctor. He put everything back to the box and discarded the trash while Clint was putting on his t-shirt. "All right, good night, Clint."

"Actually, it's good morning, and you look like a dead man," Clint noticed the dark circles under Bruce's eyes. "Why don't you just sleep here?" Clint said casually as he pulled the doctor down to his bed.

"Wha—Clint! I'll be fine. Let go," Bruce's face heated when the other man began embracing him tightly. _Like an octopus_ , Bruce mused.

"No can do," Clint mumbled sleepily, his eyes closed. "You're so warm and I like warm things, okay? Just sleep here, the bed is more than big enough for the two of us, anyway," Clint's hold tightened a bit more. He felt that if he let Bruce go back to his own room, the doctor wouldn't be able to sleep. Clint knew the scientist had been woken up by an unpleasant nightmare. As a thank you, he'd keep Bruce company.

"What are you, five?" Bruce sighed, but now that he wasn't flailing away (and his heated face returned to normal), he felt somehow at ease with the tired agent. The soft bed called him, and he complied as the archer could feel Bruce's tension melt away.

Clint snuggled closer as he mumbled, "Light, JARVIS,"

The light in the room quietly turned off, leaving the two men resting peacefully and nightmare-free for several hours, undisturbed.

* * *

+1 Bruce

The battle against another alien that day was gruesome, none of them had come out unscathed. But worse of all, the Hulk's supposedly impenetrable skin had a big gash (albeit shallow) on his chest where the alien's weapon had clashed with the green flesh. That last alien was quickly smashed by the behemoth, but before the wound could close completely, he had changed into his smaller and paler alter ego.

"Bruce!" Tony quickly flew out to the collapsing man. He landed nowhere near close enough when alerts went off on his suit.

"I'm sorry, sir, there are open gaps in the armor and you'll be exposed to the gamma radiation if you step closer. Please step back," JARVIS' voice was a little subdued, and Tony quickly took a step back and swore quietly.

"Cap! Come here!" Tony spoke to the comm, and before long, the rest of the Avengers assembled. They gaped at the big, bleeding wound on Bruce's naked chest. The doctor was lucid when he told them to mind their distance. "Poison blood," he warned them.

"Medics will be here shortly, Bruce," Natasha's voice was calm, although her raging eyes betrayed her. When she saw the minuscule fear on Bruce's face, she recalled how the physicist hated official medics that reminded him too much of military's medic.

She wasn't the only one who caught the brief fear, although Bruce had tried to hide it with a small nod. "I've got the med pack. Maybe you could tell us how to address your wound?" Clint softly asked,

"But you can't… the blood…" Bruce murmured,

"I think we're okay, Bruce," Steve stepped up with Thor, "just tell us what to do, okay? We don't actually know about medical things," Steve smiled as he crouched down on Bruce's left side while Thor on his right.

"I swear to follow your instructions to the letter, Friend Bruce," Thor also smiled, his hands were wearing the latex gloves from the medical supply they always brought.

"Uh, okay," Bruce was too dizzy to resist. "Find a clean cloth, and use it to clean the wound and the blood," Bruce bit back his whimpers when Steve cleaned his wounds carefully, shooting an apologetic look towards Bruce. "Then, apply some pressure to the wound." Bruce held back his breath as Thor's hand put pressure over the pad of gauze, hesitantly.

"Medics ETA is one minute, Bruce. Hang on!" Tony shouted from the distance, obviously repeating the news they've all heard over the comm. He was nervous, but nobody told him to shut up.

"G-good," Bruce breathed out, "Now, you need to bandage it." Bruce wasn't sure which one of the two men he referred to, and he didn't care. "Careful, please,"

Steve nodded and stared at the demigod meaningfully. Thor understood easily and he propped up the injured doctor slowly, his other hand still applying constant pressure over the wound. Steve then slid a roll of bandage under Bruce and carefully bandaged the wound. Bruce's whimpers slipped out a few times, and Steve slowed his bandaging and moved even more carefully than before. When he was done, Bruce simply said, "Now we wait," while maintaining his calm breathing to avoid aggravating the wound.

Steve was covering Bruce with a blanket, his pants were tattered and looked uncomfortable and didn't offer any purpose of clothing when the medic quinjet arrived. The agents wearing hazmat suits quickly hauled Bruce, Steve, and Thor into one quinjet, while the rest of the team boarded another quinjet.

Bruce woke up with a start from his nightmare of hazmat-suited people, a cold table, and fluorescent lights above his head. He tried to sit up, but warm hands pressed on his shoulders gently and led him back down. "It's okay, Bruce. You're safe, you're at the Tower." Bruce could comprehend the gentle voice of one Captain Rogers.

He slowly opened his eyes, thankful that the light weren't as bright as he had anticipated. He saw the relieved expressions on his teammates who were surrounding him. "Hey," he croaked, his throat was rough from misuse. A glass of water was pushed gently to his lips by a feminine hand and Bruce gladly gulped down the fresh water.

"How're you feeling, buddy? No one took your blood while you were out, by the way," Tony informed the scientist with a smile. He grinned when Bruce looked at him gratefully.

"I've been better," Bruce answered. "How long have I been out?" Bruce asked to no one in particular while he thanked Natasha after the glass was half-empty.

"Just a little under twelve hours, doc," Clint chirped, "You'll find your wound has healed completely without a trace."

"Friend Steve and I had checked the wound a little while ago," Thor boomed. His normal voice was almost as loud as his shout, but Bruce could hear the gentle undertone. "You have nothing to worry about, it has healed out nicely,"

"Thank you," Bruce's gratitude were interrupted with his yawn. Natasha smiled,

"Let the patient rest, guys," she herded them out of the room, "in any case, Dr. Bruce Banner needs to rest after his transformation." There was whining here and there, probably made by Tony and Clint. Steve stood beside the bed, smiling as he said, "Just close your eyes, Bruce. You're safe."

"We'll be here if you need us! JARVIS will call us without hesitation!" Tony shouted from outside the door, earning a small chuckle from the good doctor.

"I'll call them if necessary, with precision and no hesitation," the mocking answer the AI gave was met with a cheer by Clint, "I'll be at the air vent precisely above your room, doc!"

"And I shall come lightning fast, friends!" Thor's voice boomed, followed by small protests of Tony and Clint about his thunderous voice.

Steve laughed a little while Natasha just rolled her eyes slightly, though, a smile tugged on the corner of her lips. "Sleep well, doctor," she said sweetly and suddenly she was gone.

"Really, thanks, Cap," Bruce smiled as Steve gave Bruce a quick grasp on his hand, assuring himself and Bruce that they were all okay. He then left quietly.

Bruce closed his eyes, and this time, he didn't dream of bad memories or nightmares. He slept peacefully, safe in his room, and woke up with the weight of the world rolled off of his shoulders, and his friends—his family—were there to greet him.

 _fin_


End file.
